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Scrabble

By Flatfish 

Old books, two pairs of shoes and a pile of board games, Heather sifted through the box of cast-outs that her mum had brought over for the charity shop where she volunteered two days a week. Running a finger along the board games - Cludo, Monopoly, Scrabble and Trivial Pursuits, she pulled out the dusty old Scrabble box. She shook off the lid and laid the board out on the table. Opening the bag of letters, she smiled mischievously and emptied a few onto the board, shuffling them around to seek out the letters she needed. Carefully she laid them out in the squares of the Scrabble board and felt a familiar shiver of excitement as she gazed down at the word that had dominated her thoughts for so long: 

S P A N K I N G 

She giggled and shuffled the letters again, destroying the word and blushing slightly. She started to put the letters back in the bag. Then she paused. She had the house to herself so what’s the rush? Picking through the letters again she spelt out a new phrase: 

N A U G H T Y  G I R L S

G E T  S P A N K E D 

She felt the thrill of danger as she walked away, leaving the words of her guilty secret out on display. What if a neighbour called round? What if the window cleaner spotted the board through the window? Panicking a little, she rushed back to make sure that couldn’t happen. It was OK. The table couldn’t be seen from the window. 

She wandered into the hallway and locked the front door, then went to change into her lycra sports gear; it was time for her morning fitness routine. Ten minutes later she slipped a DVD into the player. The thirty-minute zumba routine soon had her panting and sweating as she worked off the stress of being bored and unemployed. 

Exercise always made her feel sexy. She guessed it was something to do with the release of endorphins. But today, the knowledge that the scrabble board message was laid out on the table behind her added an extra spark to her libido. 

When the session ended, she headed upstairs to shower. She glimpsed her lycra-clad curves in the bedroom mirror and another naughty thought struck her. She fetched the bath brush from the shower, piled pillows in the centre of the bed and laid over them. She rubbed the back of the brush over her upturned bottom, imagining she was over her husband’s knee being punished for being a bad girl. Trembling with excitement she slowly raised the brush and smacked it as hard as she dare against her right cheek. It wasn’t very hard but the sting made her drop the brush and rub vigorously at her burning rump. She often tried to spank herself but she could never summon the courage to smack as hard as she wanted. She knew she really should tell her husband about her needs. They had always agreed there should be no secrets between them, but she was afraid of his reaction so she kept her secret hidden and felt horribly guilty. Angry with herself she lifted the brush again and smacked it down in the same spot. It was harder this time and the sting made her eye’s water. She fluttered her feet against the bed and squeezed her thighs together waiting for the sting to die down. Then, taking a deep breath she lifted her bottom slightly, raised the brush and landed six whacks in rapid succession, peppering both cheeks. She had planned on more but the mini spanking built up such a fire that six was all she could bear. She dropped the brush and scrambled to her knees on the bed, rubbing her bottom frantically. 

The phone rang, making her jump. It was Alison at the charity shop. Heather sat on the bed and felt another sexy thrill as she talked innocently on the phone while her bottom tingled and glowed. 

“Hi Heather,” said Alison. “I’m in a bit of a fix. Julie hasn’t come in to work today and I’m on my own down here. Is there any chance you could manage an extra half day?” 

Heather leapt at the chance. She had been unsuccessfully looking for work for three months and her two days a week in the shop were a great relief from the daily boredom. Tearing off her outfit, she quickly showered, dressed, scribbled a note for her husband Matt and disappeared to the bus stop to catch the 11:30 into town. It was only when she arrived at the shop half an hour later and saw a pile of books in the window that she remembered Mum’s box. 

“Damn it!” she thought. Then her stomach flipped. “Scrabble! Oh my God! It’s still laid out on the table.” 

She almost turned around and ran back to the bus stop, but it was too late. Alison had already seen her. There was no going back. She had to press on into the shop. She could only hope that she would make it home before Matt. 

The afternoon passed slowly. The shop was busy but Heather could hardly take her eyes off the clock. Five-o-clock eventually came and she thought she was going to get away early but a last minute customer, an elderly lady, came in and kept her talking for twenty more minutes. By the time she had helped to tidy up, cash up and lock up it was quarter-to-six. Heather ran for her bus and arrived just in time to see it pull away without her. When she finally arrived home an hour later, Matt’s car was already parked in the driveway. 

Heather nervously entered the house and took off her coat. Matt was in the kitchen cooking the evening meal. She came up behind him and hugged him tightly. He shuffled around and returned her hug, giving her a long, slow kiss. As they separated she looked up into his eyes and nibbled her bottom lip nervously, expecting him to say something about the scrabble message but he said nothing, just smiled quizzically.

"Had a nice day sweetheart?" he asked.

"Erh...y...yes." 

Heather slipped away into the lounge and found, to her relief that the Scrabble board was still on the table. She was about to clear it away when she stopped and stared wide eyes. The phrase she had laid out was gone and had been replaced by a new phrase: 

A R E  Y O U

A

N A U G H T Y  G I R L 

Heather blushed deeply. Her secret was out. She brushed aside the letters, and trembling with excitement she picked out three more: 

Y E S 

She called to her husband, “I…I’m just going to freshen up.” 

“OK sweetheart. I’ll just lay the table. The coq-au-vin’s in the oven now. ” 

Heather hurried up the stairs, hardly daring to see her husband’s reaction to her revelation. When she returned the Scrabble board was gone, the table was laid and Matt was sitting on the couch, idly playing with Heather’s mahogany hair brush. As she came into the room she froze. Was he really going to spank her? Matt looked admiringly at his wife. She was twenty-two, five foot four, slim and pretty with long dark hair. A white V-neck tee shirt clung to her firm breasts and she wore pink stretch jeans and white trainers. Nervously, she came over and sat beside him. 

Heather had never said a word about spanking so it had come as quite a surprise. But Matt found the idea pretty exciting. Heather had a beautiful bottom and he had often enjoyed given it a swat, especially when she wore those pink jeans. 

Matt put down the hairbrush and leaned over to his wife, slipping one hand around her slim waist. Gently, he kissed her. He slipped his other hand around her back and as he moved away he tenderly pulled her with him. Heather didn’t resist but whimpered quietly as Matt gently eased her over his knee. 

“So,” he said, stroking her bottom, “you’re a naughty girl who needs a spanking eh?” 

Heather just nodded her head. 

“So how naughty have you been?” asked Matt, trying to feel his way forward. “ I mean, should I just lightly dust your jeans or should I spank you until you can’t sit down for a week?” 

Heather looked back over her shoulder into her husband’s questioning gaze. In her imagination she had always been spanked really hard, with lots of kicking and crying. But in reality she had never been spanked – well only a few self-administered smacks. She swallowed nervously. “I…I’ve been very naughty,” she said. “I think you’d better spank me pretty hard.” 

Matt nodded understandingly. He took a firm grip on Heather’s waist and rubbed his hand over her jean covered bottom, enjoying her perfectly proportioned curves. Then taking aim he raised his hand and gave a first tentative smack. Heather winced. It hadn’t been a hard smack but it was hard enough to smart. A second smack landed on her left cheek. Slowly, gradually increasing in pace and increasing in force, Matt landed smack after smack on her wriggling bottom. Smarting turned to stinging as the effect of each whack compounded the effect of those that had gone before. Heather started to kick her legs and shuffled around on Matt’s knee, yelping. The sting continued to build until she couldn’t bear any more and her hand flew back to protect her bottom. Matt immediately stopped spanking. 

Heather gave her bottom a little rub then hesitantly moved her hand away and wiggled encouraging Matt to continue. But within another five smacks her hand flew back. 

Matt took hold of her wrist and pulled her hand up to the small of her back and rubbed her bottom for her. Then he started to smack again. Heather's wriggling and kicking became frantic and her yelps became more tearful but she didn’t cry for him to stop. He felt her hand involuntarily trying to move back but he held her firmly and continued the spanking, peppering every inch of her bottom and finishing off with three extra hard smacks. 

Matt let go and Heather scrambled to her feet. Her face was flushed and her eyes were wet but sparkling with excitement. She rubbed at her bottom to ease the sting. 

“Well,” he said, “have you learned to be a good girl?” 

Heather grinned and shook her head. 

Matt picked up the hairbrush. “You’d better get back over my knee then,” he said, reaching out to grab her wrist. 

“Wait, wait,” said Heather taking a step back. She fumbled with the button of her jeans and to Matt’s delight she struggled them down her legs revealing her lemon panties. Kicking her jeans away she came forward and crawled once more over his knee. She closed her eyes and gripped Matt’s leg, waiting for her punishment. 

Matt rubbed the back of the hairbrush over Heather’s panty covered bottom and she thrilled at how vulnerable she felt with only a thin layer of cotton to protect her. When the spanking started it was so much more intense than before. Her hips writhed around and she kicked and cried. Every now and then a smack would land on the bare flesh that peeked out of her panties and the sting was like a lighting strike, searing her bottom. After a dozen stinging smacks Heather knew she wanted more. 

“Wait!” she cried. Matt stopped in mid whack. “Wait…please…pull my panties down.” 

Matt put the brush aside and took hold of Heather’s waistband. She lifted her hips and he dragged her panties down her legs and off. The lower half of her bottom was scarlet and Matt placed his hand on the soft flesh and felt the heat. He pushed his fingers between her thighs and she opened her legs a little allowing him to probe and excite her, revealing the wetness of her intense arousal. 

He picked up the brush again and started to spank. It was really happening, a bare bottom spanking over her husband’s knee. Heather was lost in a wild confusion of ecstasy and hell as each thwack of the hairbrush roasted her bottom. She bucked, writhed and kicked as the fiery storm scorched her cheeks and her yelps turned to howls. Suddenly she screamed, “stop! Stop! Quick!” 

Matt let her go and she rolled off his knee clutching her bottom. Leaping to her feet she flew at him, tearing at the waistband of his jeans. In seconds the couple were almost naked and Heather rolled back onto the floor, pulling Matt on top of her. Her well-spanked bottom burned as it rubbed against the rough carpet while together they frantically made love. 

As they lay together, panting, enjoying the tingling after sex glow, Heather’s head was spinning and her bottom burned with a delicious fire. Matt lay on his back with a muscular arm wrapped around her shoulders, holding her to his chest. 

“Why didn’t you ever say you wanted to be spanked?” he asked. 

“I was afraid.” 

“Scrabble! That was a really bizarre.” 

“I didn’t mean to leave the Scrabble board out." 

“Well I’m glad you did,” he answered. I’ve never played scrabble like that before. What’s next?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Well I see you have a few games left. I suppose you’ll be getting the Cludo out next.” 

“Eh?” 

“You know… Heather Brown, spanked by Professor Plum, in the conservatory with a slipper.” 

“I don’t know about that,” laughed Heather. “But Heather Brown spanked by Matt in the bedroom with the bath brush sounds perfect.” 

~

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